Immediately there was a terrific uproar from the crowd of hoodlums. They yelled at Dick, and hurled upon him all sorts of epithets. Some of them even started to follow him onto the field. “Get off the field!” commanded the umpire. “If you crowd out here I’ll stop the game! Get back behind the ropes!” They retreated reluctantly, still howling at Dick. The umpire thought the ball thrown in by Halligan was the one he had put in play, and therefore Dick’s protest was passed over. “I’ll have Gardner look for the right ball when he takes the field,” said Merriwell, as he retreated to he bench. Bold was the next batter, and he took a signal from Dick, which led him to bunt the second ball pitched by Raymer. He cleverly sent it slowly rolling along the ground just inside the first-base line. On this bunt Gardner easily took third, while Bold was thrown out at first. Earl crossed third base as if contemplating dashing home, and the ball was sent across to Lumley by Hunston. This forced Gardner to dive back to the bag: but he was off again in a twinkling as he saw the throw was a bad one. Lumley jumped for the ball, thrust out his left hand, but barely touched it with his fingers. Then Gardner raced home with the first run for Fairhaven. “That’s the right spirit,” assured Dick, patting Earl on the back. “They spoiled your homer with a trick, but you led Hunston into a bad throw and scored just the same. I want you to look for that ball out there in left field. I think you will find it close to the fence.” “I wondered how he got it so soon and threw it in,” said Earl. This beginning by the visitors seemed to enrage the crowd of hoodlums. As Bradley strode out to hit they whooped and yelled at him as loudly as possible. Some of them made references to his personal appearance, and two or three called him foul names. Again Dick started up and made a signal to the umpire. There was a lull, and he was heard demanding that something should be done to stop the rowdyism. “Where is Mr. Hammerswell?” cried the umpire, looking around for the Maplewood manager. But Hammerswell was keeping under cover just then. He had decided to keep out of sight and could not be found. The umpire warned the crowd, but his warning proved ineffective. They laughed at him and invited him to “go fall off the earth.” Bradley seemed deaf to all the racket. He missed a good one over the outside corner, then let two pass and struck under a sharp rise. “You can’t hit, you lobster!” whooped one of the thugs. “Back to the fool house!” yelled another. “Where did you get that face?” howled a third. “It’s enough to frighten a Hottentot!” But these things were mild beside some of the language used, and the ladies were shocked by what they were compelled to hear. “This is the end of Hammerswell’s baseball days in Maplewood,” said Dick to Buckhart. “He may last through the season, but I’ll guarantee he never again runs a team here.”